2-Apr-2002
Title: Promise of the Rings
Series: A Matter of Heart
Arc: Dance of the Heart #4
By: Andrea Readwolf
Email: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.comor andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com
Rating: YA-Adult
Pairings: 3+4, 1+2+5
Archive: This fic and others in this Series is hosted at the following wonderful site:
GW Addiction! http://www.gwaddiction.com
Warnings: The following fic contains scenes that are humorous; all characters are IC according to the author's interpretation of them.
Spoilers: Post Endless Waltz.
Feedback: C&C is always welcomed and adored. Constructive Criticism is… digestible. ^_~
Acknowledgements go out to the wonderful people who have made my sojourn in GW-fanfiction more than just enjoyable: Thank You!
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and are only being used for non-profit entertainment purposes. References to printed texts, films, sitcoms, musical pieces, and/or other fanfictions don’t belong to the author either.
Notes: "Promise of the Rings" is the Sequel to "In the Pale Moonlight" and represents Part 4 in the DANCE OF THE HEART Arc. Part 4: Mightier Than the Sword is a short scene induced by the thought of Quatre and Dorothy having a re-match duel.
Additional Note: It would be impossible to embark on the next leg of this journey without giving credit where credit is due. My 1+2+5 obsession is heavily due to Bonnejeanne, Vonceia, RavynFyre, and KeelyWolfe. It’s unthinkable to me to precede with "Promie of the Rings" without acknowledging those ladies who have paved the way for me with this grouping. As a result, my opinions and writings are highly biased and may seem very similar to theirs’. This fic is not an attempt to steal their words and ideas—only an attempt to finalize what was set in motion in "Have You Ever…".
This fic and the ideas contained within are copyright of the author and may not be reprinted without permission.
Quatre smiled and pulled the face guard down. "This isn’t necessary, you do realize that?" he asked, swiping the air with his sabre.
"Humor me," Heero replied, checking the fastenings on his wrist guards before lowering his mask and raising his sabre.
"I thought I was!" Quatre’s smile could be heard despite the face guard. Heero’s sabre came at him before the last word left his lips.
The clashing of metal against metal echoed throughout the room, followed by hollow silence. And then the hiss of metal sliding against metal, parry, forte, clash, block, attack. A dance of metal and bodies, crashing together with deliberation, side stepping, swirling, until both boys stood in a gridlock, face to face.
"Draw," Quatre panted, not relaxing his pressure on the blades inches between them.
Heero grunted, dropped, brought his leg up behind Quatre. Quatre grunted, surprised, his balance thrown off, his fall guaranteed when a knee pressed behind his, buckling, sprawling out across the mat, shocked. Heero stood, pointed his sabre’s point to the center of Quatre’s chest. He pulled his mask off, a proud little smirk in place.
"There’s no such thing as a tie, Quatre," he said.
The blond boy pushed his face guard up from his flushed, sweaty face. "That’s not fair, Heero!"
The Japanese boy pulled back his sabre and drew away. "No one said to be fair. You do what you have to do to win."
"Feeling proud of yourself, Yuy?"
Heero looked over his shoulder to the three other teens hanging out along the wall, watching him and Quatre duel. "Yes," he answered before turning around fully to face them. "You thinking about doing something about it?"
Wufei smirked, arms crossed over his chest, chin down, eyes closed, one foot propped up against the wall behind him. "Maybe." One eye looked up, his face stayed lowered.
Heero looked at the Chinese youth, the corners of his mouth tilted, and he cocked his head to the side. "So what are you waiting for? A special invitation?"
Wufei pushed off the wall, his arms falling to the side as he made his way to the weapons display, pulling a large curved sword off the wall. "Rules?"
"There are no rules," Heero countered, watching the lithe dragon’s body as Wufei freed his sword from its scabbard and tested its familiar weight. He took one look at Wufei’s blade in comparison to his. "Hn. Duo, hand me the Kampilan."
Duo perked up. "Sure, Hee-chan. Ah… which one is it?"
"Here," Trowa supplied, walking past Duo, over to the wall and picking out the long, single edged blade, sporting a spikelet at the tip. One flick of arm and wrist sent the blade flipping through the air, soaring directly towards Heero. The blade arched down, embedding itself into the cushy mat next to Heero’s feet. The Japanese fighter bent, loosed the blade, and pulled it free with ease.
"One rule!" Duo called out, delaying any action. Two pairs of eyes turned to the braided-boy; one onyx, one lapis. "No killin’ or maimin’," the violet-blue-eyed boy insisted. "I want full, livin’ and breathin’ bodies in my bed tonight. Got me?"
Wufei and Heero nodded, once, and then turned to each other. Quatre scooted up next to Duo and Trowa, leaning back against the taller boy, and winced at the first harsh crash of swords as Heero and Wufei went at each other like mortal enemies. The blond boy cringed again, turning his face away… and caught sight of his best friend, leaning back against the wall, casually watching the two boys on the mats. Watched violet-blue eyes follow each and every sway and dip, arch and swoop of blade as his two boyfriends wielded the weapons like extensions of limbs. He was studying them, Quatre realized with some shock, not just watching to make sure they didn’t hurt each other, but studying their movements.
"It’s a draw!" Duo shouted over the clang of swords after about ten minutes. Quatre noticed, too, that the swings grew sloppier as limbs tired and sweat beaded their foreheads and soaked their shirts. Neither boy on the mats answered, continuing to hack away.
Trowa waited another three minutes before calling out to them. "You’re equally matched."
Neither Asian boy acknowledged him, either. And then, Heero managed to knock Wufei’s sword free, falling to his knees in the process. Wufei, swordless, swayed, watching as Heero’s knees collided with the soft mats, and then fell himself.
"Why… must you… be so… stubborn?" Wufei hissed as his legs gave out beneath him and his body jeered to the ground.
"Someone… has to… knock you down… every once in a while…" Heero replied.
"Hn." Duo squatted down between the two. "Do you have to knock yourself down in the process, Hee-chan?" he asked.
Heero smiled up at the ceiling, eyes closed against the salty sweat. "Wouldn’t want him to be lonely."
"Well," Quatre said, coming up behind Duo, Trowa at his side. "There went my so-called lessons for the day!"
Trowa smiled, a hand finding its way to Quatre’s back, right below his shoulder. "I thought you said lessons were not necessary."
"They’re not," Quatre agreed. "But it’s the *principle* of the matter." He looked down at the two exhausted boys on the mats. "We should just leave you both here."
"And condemn me to a cold, empty bed?" Duo quipped. He reached over and hauled his Chinese lover to his feet, wrapping an arm around Wufei’s waist to hold him up. Trowa didn’t even bother to help Heero stand; just leaned over, picked the Japanese boy up and cradled him like a baby.
"I can walk you know," Heero mumbled. Trowa didn’t reply.
"Let’s get them into the bath," Quatre grumbled. "No sense in stinking up clean sheets."
"They’ll just be dirty by morning anyway," Duo replied, following the blond out of the padded room.
End Part 4
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com